


Spaceship

by foxiiiroxiii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Existential Angst, Gen, Hope, Self-Reflection, Songfic, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 12:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11944512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxiiiroxiii/pseuds/foxiiiroxiii
Summary: After the final battle against Zarkon, Shiro was transported across the galaxy to fight alongside rebel allies in an effort to unite forces and put an end to the Galra Empire. During “downtime” there’s nothing more to do than reflect on his current situation, his friends, and what the future has in store for him.





	Spaceship

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Voltron fanfic (songfic)! I recently bought Kesha’s album and fell in love with her song Spaceship, which served as the primary inspiration for this short story. It reminded me of Shiro and that final episode where the paladins find that he has gone missing. I edited this on my own, so I apologize in advance for any errors. I haven’t written fanfiction in 10 years? Wow! Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave comments/feedback.

The wind roared loudly in his ears as he stretched out on a vast spread of blue-green grass on top of a steep cliff. The crashing sound of waves from the nearby ocean hitting sharp rocks was harsh, causing a rush of thoughts to quickly fill Shiro’s head. He sighed as he looked up at the foreboding yellow sky. The alien planet had a slight resemblance to Earth. It felt as though centuries had passed since he last walked the rich soil of his home planet. 

_I always said when I’m gone, when I’m dead  
Don’t lay me down with the dirt on my head_

His black paladin armor was torn, covered in dirt, and caked with ooze. He had been fighting Galra soldiers for days alongside a group of rebels and the exhaustion had finally creeped up, nestling into the curve of his back. Truthfully, he had always had an awareness of its looming presence, but never let it settle in or get this comfortable. Every day required an extraneous amount of adrenaline and the mental energy to watch, process, and transition from the death of beings caused by his own hand or the hands of the Galra Empire. Somehow it was easier to digest when he was piloting his lion alongside the Voltron crew. Something about the camaraderie lessened the immediate emotional and psychological impact of battle. The wounds would settle in during the night. 

_You won’t need a shovel, you don’t need a cold headstone  
You don’t need to cry, I’m gon’ be going home_

The nights were the worst. The night allowed for rumination, flashbacks, and nightmares to curl up in a warm nest in the back of his mind. He tried his best to maintain a certain level of control, yet that often resulted in sleep deprivation and his current state of fatigue. His arms stretched out across the grass as he gripped it tightly in his fists. His body often reacted involuntarily to painful thoughts and memories. No amount of training or discipline could keep the reactions at bay. He had exhausted all of his options. 

_I’m waiting for my spaceship to come back to me_  
_It’s coming back for me_  
_I don’t really care if you believe, it’s coming back for me_

He would never admit it out loud, but sometimes it would be easier to accept defeat. It would be easier to say that this situation was beyond a single human’s destiny. Placing the fate of the entire universe on the shoulders of a 25-year-old was asking the impossible. When doubt ran its cold hand down his face he would think of the paladins. His friends. His family. 

_I been living in a lonesome galaxy  
But in my dreams, I see them come ’n rescue me_

Shiro closed his eyes, exhaling deep into the seemingly infinite space above him. He was fortunate in that the rebel squad was regrouping on a planet with oxygen. It had been months since he could safely remove his helmet that protected him for poisonous gases. 

_Look up in the sky and there they’ll be  
I bet you’ll think of me then_

He thought of Keith and the responsibility that was inevitably placed on him. It had not gone the way he had envisioned, but Shiro knew deep down that Keith would find his way. 

_I knew from the start I don’t belong in these parts  
There’s too much hate, there’s too much hurt for this heart_

He had so much faith in the man, always had. However, he couldn’t help but feel a certain level of guilt. He felt like a hypocrite. If fate’s heavy burden was something he could barely muster the energy to lift, how could he expect Keith to do the same? Why had he thought it would be a good idea to fill Keith’s head with his idealistic expectations? In a way, it had felt as though he was protecting himself by pushing his beliefs onto the younger paladin. It wasn’t his intention, but he wanted to warn Keith of his duty in an attempt to heal. Shiro had been thrusted into a position of leadership he was not ready for, but alas, he had been fortified into an unrelenting soldier. He did what he had to do. He never wanted to lead such a young group into a fight against tyranny. There was no training manual for that. He actively rejected the title as leader, preferring to fight alongside his teammates as equals. He stepped up because destiny had drawn out the plan on a stretch of fine, cotton canvas ready to be primed and painted with blood, sweat, and tears. Who was he to defile life’s masterpiece?

_Lord knows this planet feels like a hopeless place  
Thank God I’m going back home to outer space _

It hurt knowing that it was the blood, sweat, and tears of billions of people. His team included. 

He thought of them at night time, wondering if they were getting enough sleep and taking care of one another. He could almost hear Keith’s defiance. He knew the red paladin would not rest until Shiro returned. It would take Keith a while to come around, so Shiro prayed that Keith would mourn in whatever way came naturally to him. That usually involved his temper, but he knew the strength and resiliency that could be fostered as a result. A small smile etched itself across his face at the thought. 

He prayed to whatever celestial being was stitching the quilt of life that the paladins wouldn’t lose their way. He hoped Lance would step up to damper the flames ignited by Keith’s rage. They were equally obstinate with self-focused tendencies. That hope felt more like a desperate cry for help. Shiro worried for them. On the other hand, he was also aware that miracles happened more often than not. His very existence was a standing testament even though most days it felt like the works of a curse. 

_I’m nothing more than recycled stardust and borrowed energy,_

It pained him to know that he couldn’t tell Keith what was going to happen during their last battle. What the Black lion had planned on doing in the heat of battle. He didn’t have the chance to warn anyone. The impact from that final strike would have killed him. The Black lion saved his life. He remembered what it was like to see his life flash before his eyes and through his lion’s eyes. It came at him in the form of fluorescent purple electricity shooting through his body and the explosion of Zarkon’s vessel. In that moment he thought of his life on Earth. The memories felt foreign, but were often plastered on the walls of his dissociative states. The perfect cage. He thought of Matt and their first robotics class together at the Garrison. They had set the sample bot on fire and were disciplined for their reckless behavior. He remembered what it was like to laugh so hard it burned his lungs and pierced his ribcage. 

_born from a rock spinning in the ether_

The Black lion had latched onto that memory, and for the first time in his life he felt his literal being. He felt the rush of cosmic dust, the startling movement of atoms colliding through space and time. He felt every molecule, every cell rip through the astral plane until he opened his eyes. Drenched in sweat, Shiro remembered the feeling of utter shock when he looked up from his seated position to see the familiar face of his long-lost friend. Shiro had abstained from pushing his doubt onto Pidge during her search because he knew she had to believe her brother was still alive. He was no one to take that hope away from her, but deep down he had accepted the likelihood of never seeing Matt again. 

_I watch my life backwards and forwards and I feel free_

He had been tasked with a new mission for now: to infiltrate Galra occupied territories and connect rebel groups to help unify allies across the universe. It was usually during the cool nights when he stared up at the twinkling stars above him that he allowed himself to mull over the possibility of going home. Was this desire something he would inevitably have to accept as doomed? He could never abandon his team, but what if this was his new path? What if it was his path all along? He was seen as the leader of the paladins, but what if that was all a prerequisite for a much larger mission? Perhaps they had outgrown him in their short time together. Perhaps this experience would signal to them that his presence was no longer needed. That thought alone was a can of worms best left unopened.

_Nothing is real,_

Shiro sighed and opened his eyes. They stung and he wanted to tell himself it was because of the planet’s unique atmospheric conditions, but he could feel the impact of each breath expanding his ribcage. The brick wall inside of him fortified with stress, trauma, and anger was beginning to crumble at the thought of never seeing his friends again. Never seeing his lion again. Never feeling the rush of pure adrenaline when their minds melded into one being: Voltron. 

_Love is everything,_

In that moment, his anxiety and survival instincts pushed their way through layers of nerves, muscles, and fiber. His breathing accelerated and his palms began to sweat. He wanted with every inch of his being to return to the crew. Tears rolled down his dirt covered face, clinging onto his ears before falling to the ground. He was hurting, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to them and let them know he was alive. Shiro felt himself reach out to the Black lion in hopes that the lion could hear his call and take him back. 

_and I know nothing_

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed his spirit to pulsate through the astral plane and across the galaxies. He heard a low, reassuring purr. Laughter ripped through the accumulated mucus coating his throat. Black was out there. He could feel Keith’s energy interweaving with the lion’s. They were together. 

Shiro sat up on his knees staring down at the ground, the wind blew wildly through his hair. The taste of saline lingered on his tongue. He held onto the grass as the light laughter died down. He lifted his head and couldn’t help but smile. The yellow sky appeared a little more hopeful. The sound of the ocean was suddenly comforting. They were out there. They would be a team again. 

_They’re coming back for me, they’re coming back for me._

He closed his eyes once more, an intention sprouted from deep within his core. Images of his past speckled across his mind. The love for his friends. The gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder. The soft rumble of laughter. The sound of their “laser guns,” and the quiet hum of a spaceship. Slate-colored eyes lifted as Shiro released the intention, making sure it was wrapped safely with blue, green, yellow, red, and black strings before letting go. 

“I’ll be home soon, guys.”


End file.
